


Teacher's Brat

by blackhighheels, thackeryisatop



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26198458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhighheels/pseuds/blackhighheels, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thackeryisatop/pseuds/thackeryisatop
Summary: University English Professor Brock has his hands full when his boyfriend Jose, the world-famous Miss Vanjie, decides to drop into one of his classes uninvited.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 30
Kudos: 68





	Teacher's Brat

**Author's Note:**

> While chatting we created this crazy idea and decided on a whim to just collaborate and write it. I don't know if this is a crack fic or an AU. Either way, we had fun writing it and we hope you enjoy reading it.

**Teacher’s Brat**

  
  


While Brock waited for the coffee he’d ordered, he rubbed his eyes tiredly and wondered once more what he had done to piss off the program coordinator who arranged classes and schedules for each staff member. Teaching the syntax class at eight o'clock on Monday morning was his personal idea of hell, especially since the class was held in the auditorium with five hundred plus students each week. Students hated it but had to attend since the class was mandatory and he, as their professor, hated it even more – not that he could say that out loud to anyone at university. To make matters worse the class was part of the bachelor’s program for Applied Linguistics, but also part of the general English Lit master’s program, making it an absolute headache to plan. There was no common knowledge or level amongst the students and some of them were so fucking stupid he wondered how they even got accepted into either program.

Also, Brock was not a morning person. Add to this that it was his first semester teaching as the new professor of the faculty, which meant he was nervous before each class. Also, his boyfriend was a drag queen and usually came home around three or four in the morning. It was a mess, all of it and made Brock even grumpier and therefore stricter in class.

He needed the students to respect him and take him seriously even at eight on a Monday morning. If they failed their class with him because they thought his class was a joke, it would ruin his evaluation and score, which was bad, especially for a new professor and would limit his chances of getting research funded in the future. 

"Sir, your coffee," the barista told him and he picked up the two cups and made his way back to his office.

He found Jose sitting in his office chair twirling around in it with his eyes closed, looking like a little kid since his feet didn't touch the ground.

"You'll make yourself dizzy," Brock told him and stopped the chair by placing a hand on the backrest. “Iced vanilla latte with a hint of cinnamon, caramel syrup and three Splenda.”

"Oooh, coffee. Finally. Took you long enough," Jose grumbled and grabbed one cup. He was even less of a morning person than Brock was and honestly, Brock had no idea why his boyfriend was even up at this hour and even less why he was here, in his office. Jose had insisted on coming with him to get coffee, which made no sense since there was a coffee shop around the corner from their apartment. Jose went there every day, so why not today? Between grunts and a lot of whining, Brock hadn't really gotten an answer out of his man and had simply given in - like he usually did. He was a sucker when it came to the man he loved.

"You got your coffee, I got mine, here are the car keys and I'll call you in the afternoon when I'm done so you can pick me up, alright?" Brock leaned down and pecked Jose's lips. "I have to go now." He took his black leather bag that held his laptop and materials and walked towards his office door.

"Cool, let's go." Jose left the car keys on the desk and only grabbed the coffee cup.

"Huh?"

"We've got class. Let's go."

"No, I have to teach a class. You have to go home."

"I'm coming," Jose insisted, stamping his boot-clad foot on the ground. 

Brock sighed, exasperated. 

"No, you're not," he told Jose, tapping him on his shoulder to remind him that they were not, whatever fantasy he had concocted in his crazy little mind this morning- going to be playing that game.

"Pleeease! I wanna see you teach," Jose whined. 

"You can't. You're not a student." Brock told him but had to admit that his man kind of looked like a student this morning, or was at least dressed like one, even though his shirt alone cost more than a student’s rent for two months. Jose’s outfit was a lot different from the business look Brock himself wore.

It wasn’t the only opposite they presented. Even personality wise he and Jose were textbook, absolute, polar opposites. 

Where Brock was quiet, and liked to take his time before he would join into a conversation, his body and mind all moving in exacting, calculating ways; with a trained, practiced metronome in mind that he tried to listen to, to keep himself doing all the right things, Jose was like an absolute hurricane; pure energy packed into his tiny body almost enough, Brock told himself, to power the whole campus by himself. 

Jose was bright, and gregarious, the life of the party and the favorite of everyone in every room, his emotions cresting like waves crashing against the shore. To know him, Brock knew, was already a privilege, but to be the man who Jose came home to, was something else entirely. 

"But I'm your boyfriend." Jose sounded like a little kid who had just been told that he could not stuff his face with candy at midnight on a school night. 

"Still not a student."

"But you get to see me at work all the time," Jose pointed out. 

"Like millions of other people. You're a drag queen and you’re on TV all the time."

That part, sometimes, Brock still couldn’t wrap his mind around. Jose was Miss Vanjie, international celebrity drag queen, who had Rihanna in his DM’s, still got Christmas cards from RuPaul, and would spent almost all of his year jetting around the world to twirl and dance and happily scream along his own made-up lyrics to the songs he was supposed to be lip-syncing to, bopping his head along to thousands of screaming fans. 

It would have been easy to mistake Vanjie with his real personality. The foul-mouthed sexpot character being what so many assumed he would have been like in real life. But the man Brock loved couldn’t have been more different. 

Brock had instantly been attracted to how handsome Jose was, sitting at a table by himself at a club close to Brock’s faculty in New York on the one night that Brock had been convinced to go out with some of his gay phd friends. 

Jose had bought a whole round of shots for the club, all on him, and once the attention was off him enough, he had talked to Brock just like they were old friends. Back then Brock had wondered why he was the one Vanjie chose to talk to, but later he had found out that Jose had spotted him as soon as he’d stepped into the club with his friends and had been drawn to his calm energy and, of course, his looks. That first night between them had come to an end when Jose had gotten called back to the tour bus, ending in exchanging numbers and texting well into the next morning. 

Unlike Vanjie, Brock discovered that Jose was sweet and romantic, emotional to a fault, shy sometimes and more giving and thoughtful than anyone else Brock had ever dated. What’s more was, Jose never let an obstacle stand in the way of what he wanted, namely: distance and time. 

Years later, after months of back-and-forth flights and hotel trysts wherever Jose was on tour, they shared an apartment and three cats between them. 

Jose was quite private though and only told his fans and the press that he was “practically married” and lived with his man whenever questions about his relationship status were asked. Brock felt especially proud whenever he would see pictures of Jose, dressed in one of his UCLA or Columbia sweaters, like it was a varsity jacket. His fans assumed he was a fan of the sports teams, but Brock knew that the sweaters were just for him, another little thing that only he could notice but allowed him to claim Jose as his. 

"That don't matter that they see me on tv. I wanna see my man at work. Come oooon! Or you gonna be late," Jose whined, bumping against Brock as they made their way through the hallways. Brock’s cheeks burned, Jose’s voice so loud there was no way that anyone could miss it. Even if people just thought Jose was a friend of his, or God Forbid- a real student in early office hours- Brock was proud of his stoic personality, and didn’t need colleagues or students to think he was being silly or unprofessional. If they found out he was gay, that was the one thing he really couldn’t care less about; he didn’t announce it at work just like all other facts of his private life, but he wasn’t going to hide it either. 

"I'm not gonna be late, because you're going home. Besides, you don’t even know where my class is."

"I don’t, but I'll just, like, follow you. I'm fucking sneaky like that."

Brock stopped walking. "Jose, please," he tried one last time, even though he already knew it was futile. His boyfriend was stubborn and there was no way Jose wouldn't be attending his class today, if Brock didn't get him thrown out by campus security; and that was a battle he didn't even want to think about with Vanjie screaming and kicking as they carried him away and then later kicking his ass when he got home.

"Fine, you win. But there are some rules you have to follow," Brock insisted.

"Fine. What rules, mister?"

"One: No cellphones in my class, no taking photos or recording me."

"Spoil sport! You look fine as fuck in these pants! How’m I supposed to enjoy the view?"

“I don’t know, pay attention to the class?”

“Fine. Next?” 

"Number Two: No talking, no cursing, no yelling or chatting with others."

"I'll be quiet. Like ‘Lock my mouth and throw away the key’ kinda quiet," Jose promised and made the motions that went with his words.

"Three: You sit still and you don't distract me or the students. No humming, paper planes, flying rubber pieces or paper balls."

"So basically I’ll act like I'm not there?" Jose concluded with the cutest little pout on his face. Brock wanted to kiss it off him, but knew that wasn’t the best idea when he was already in danger of being late for his own class. 

"Exactly," Brock nodded, glad Jose got the concept. He looked like he wanted to argue but Brock shut him up with one stern look.

"Fine mama, Imma be fucking air today. Now, let's hurry. I wanna see my mans teach," he pushed Brock forward and nearly made him spill his coffee on his white dress shirt.

"Hey!"

"If you're any good I'll let you play professor and student with me later…if ya know what I'm sayin'," Jose wiggled his eyebrows.

"Apparently that's your fantasy not mine, as often as you bring it up." They hurried through the corridors again, quickly changing buildings and Brock hoped that no one was paying attention to their conversation.

"Mmmh, and, you know, we haven't played _that_ yet, professor," Jose's tone was low and seductive, making Brock take a deep breath just as they reached the door of the auditorium. 

This man would be the death of him one day. Did he really want him to walk into a room with more than 500 students with a hard-on?! Even if the kids never paid any attention to anything he wanted them to pay attention to, Brock was still sure that they would spot the tent in his slacks the second he stepped through the doors and he’d never be able to live it down. It would be all over school and he’d be the professor with the hard-on for the next decade at least. No way he’d let that happen!

"Also rule number four: No flirting with me in class. Behave!"

The smirk he got in return from Jose was less than promising, but it wasn't like he had a choice: Vanessa Vanjie Mateo aka Jose Luis Cancel aka his boyfriend, would be in attendance at his syntax class today. He was screwed and not in a good way. Monday morning just got so much worse.

*******

Jose took a second to enjoy this moment when Brock opened the door to the lecture hall. Finally he would get to see his man at work, something he had wanted to do for quite a while. He thought it wasn’t fair that Brock got to see him at work all the time and therefore got something out of all the times he had to put up with Jose complaining about aching muscles or feet, bitching about the other queens or annoying fans and having to put up with make-up stains on clothes and his lips being colored red whenever he kissed him as Vanjie.

However as his boyfriend, Jose was also the one who had to put up with long, boring rants about whatever topic Brock was currently working on during dinner, late night sessions to fix presentations and just Brock’s overall bad mood when it was grading time and he was stuck to his desk all day marking his students mistakes and having to decide between letting them pass or making them fail, something Brock didn’t take lightly.

As he followed Brock down the lecture hall’s stairs, Jose could feel the stares settle at the back of his neck as the students must wonder who he was. Jose hadn’t expected this room to be so huge with so many people here. He was dressed in his ripped jeans that had more holes than fabric, grey working boots, a black shirt underneath his red plaid shirt and his leather jacket. At the last second he had donned a hat this morning in hopes that he wouldn’t get recognised right away. 

He plopped himself into one of the seats in the seventh row, hoping that he had been discreet enough, fading into a throng of students, all grumbling to themselves about the early class and the difficult homework.

The wooden seats had to be pulled down and the seat Jose had taken was tilted slightly, so he was already sliding forward a bit. He pulled the table out and rested his arms on to stabilize his sitting situation as he discreetly looked around. 

Brock complained sometimes about his work, claiming that the students could be immature and unruly, and that there were a couple of them here, who truly made him think twice about his life choices. To Jose most of them just looked like kids, even though there were some here who for sure were older than he was and maybe even older than Brock.

Over all, it looked like the seating order hadn’t changed since Jose’s High School days: The suck ups were sitting front and center with their laptops out and notes already sorted neatly on the table in front of them. Amongst them a couple of guys and girls Jose suspected were the hardcore fans who had a crush on Brock. You always found these right in front of the stage at a drag show with signs in their hands and hearts in their eyes. Here it was the same, just without the signs.

The kids that were sitting next to him were the normal ones, the ones who were here because they had to be and might even be slightly interested. Or not. But, that pretty much sounded like every student ever, and Jose knew well enough he’d been tough to teach as a kid. College was just bigger kids, right? He’d never been in one before, except for the few campus gigs he had done right after Vanjie had been on Drag Race.

The people least interested were sitting way in the back, talking amongst themselves. He knew Brock was always mad at some kid or other, who thought that porn and video games in the back row were much more interesting than his life’s work, and Jose guessed he could kind of understand getting pissed at that. 

There had been a girl the last time he’d gone to collect some extra supplies at Sephora, who clearly hadn’t known who he was and told him his eyebrows were uneven and his highlighter was the wrong shade, leaving his cheeks burning hot as hell as he shuffled past her, shoving his products into his basket. Getting into it about a man’s work was inviting some shit for sure. 

“Ugh, if you hadn’t just come in I swear, I was gonna call the cops,” a girl whined in the row above him, talking to another girl who had just hurried in. “You were probably stuck in a ditch somewhere if you’re missing Hayhoe’s class.” Hearing the name Jose quickly checked what Brock was doing and found that he had plugged in his laptop, showing the first slide of the day on the large screen and had put on a microphone. It looked like the class was about to start and Jose got excited.

“Remember when he said he was gonna fail us all after the bus broke down? He’s such a fucking hardass. It’s not like our life revolves around his class. We got other shit to do and it wasn’t even our fault! He should just get laid, maybe that would make him chill a bit,” her friend started to giggle, and Jose couldn’t help but snap up at the mention of exactly how much ass his man got at home. Sure, he’d gossiped about his teachers back in the day, but- 

“You know, he’s still mad because of that one time Callum and Jeffery spent the whole hour watching hockey and he really thought they gave a fuck about whatever he was saying.” 

Jose had half a mind to break his cover, turn around and let these simpering, little bitchess have it, but before he could, he felt a tug on the side of his shiny, brown patent-leather jacket. 

“Holy shit. Miss Vanjie?” Busted. So much for going undetected.

There was a boy with a bright mop of curly blonde hair who had slipped into the seat beside him, and Jose knew immediately, from his wide eyes and the phone already half out of his pocket, that he had to be a fan. 

“Oh, baby I’m just...” 

He was interrupted by Brock clearing his throat as he started the lesson. Again, Jose was struck with how fine his man looked, dressed in his dark grey slacks that made his ass look even more delicious, shiny black loafers and white dress shirt that fit just right. Jose was glad he had been able to convince Brock to go clothes shopping with him once he had got the job as a junior professor, because his phd student look was not the most flattering one. The old jeans, washed out hoodies and woolen sweaters with loose threads hanging out were fine for when they were home, but not for showing these university kiddos who was boss.

“Good morning everyone,” Brock began, his voice deep and measured, so unlike how excited he sounded when Jose would bound into their living room after coming home from a tour, or the lower, gravelly tone he had grown so used to Brock using in bed. “Let’s start. Today we will finally dive into the constituent analysis according to Chomsky for which we will need all the groundwork we’ve laid over the last three weeks. I hope you’ve all done your homework. Please, collect them in the middle of each row as I will collect them later. First we will…”

“Miss Vanjie,” Jose heard from further back, most likely from one of the last row bad boys. It was loud enough that giggles and whispers were everywhere all of a sudden and Jose felt all eyes on him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the blondie slip his phone back into his pocket and knew that the little fucker must have alerted the other little fuckers of his presence. 

“Oh my god!”

“What’s he doing here?”

  
“That’s what she looks like out of drag?”

“Vanjie… Miss Vaaaanjie.” The voices came from everywhere now and Jose lost track of how many phone cameras were suddenly pointed at him. He pulled the brim of his cap tighter, down past his eyes. If these kiddos didn’t shut it, he’d be kicked out of Brock’s class faster than he’d been kicked off Drag Race the first time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, must I remind you of the no phone rule in my class? You have exactly two seconds to put your phones away,” Brock’s angry voice drowned out the chatter and the room fell silent apart from the sounds as they put away their phones. “Yes, Mr. Jose Cancel has decided to join us today but I can assure you that this lesson won’t be turned into a drag or tv show and everything we talk about today will be relevant for your final grade and the exam at the end of the year. Anyone who will take or post a picture of Mr. Cancel during this class will have to meet with me after class for a little chat. Are we clear?” 

His voice was stern as it would be sometimes when he would reprimand Jose for being so bratty while they were in bed together. Hearing that voice, in another context entirely, made Jose’s eyes widen as he turned to his boyfriend, a cross look coloring Brock’s face. Even the last student had now clearly made the connection who Jose was, and they all were craning their necks in their seats to get a glimpse of the celebrity in the room. Under Brock’s intimidating stare directed at the room mutters of “Yes, sir” could be heard. 

“I’m just gonna…-”, Jose cleared his throat, locking eyes with Brock. “Child, I’m here for a good time, not a long time, so how about we get all this started?” 

Brock looked visibly relieved, the class started ro relax and turned back to their books and notebooks as Brock opened his mouth to continue with what he had said before. Jose nodded to himself, reminding himself that he would talk to Brock about this scene later, at home. 

Suddenly, the door burst open from the back of the hall. 

“Sorry! I... shit.” A frazzled looking boy sputtered, all but stumbling down the stairs into a seat just in front of Jose’s. Brock eyed him sharply, so very clearly just past the point of exasperation with the morning. 

“Mr. McGregor. As I reminded all of you last week after your little stories about a bus accident, if you are late for one more of my classes this semester, I will fail you on the spot. Which means that you can pack your stuff and leave right now, because you’re out.”

Jose felt his eyes widen at just how mean Brock was being. The kid looked like he might burst into tears any second, and Jose actually opened his mouth to protest when his and Brock’s eyes met. Brock looked directly at Jose for a moment, as if he was embarrassed all of a sudden, then focused back on the student who was just getting up again. 

“Lucky for you, today, I want our special guest to leave with the best possible impression of what we do here, so you get one last chance.” Brock’s eyes met Jose’s again for a moment.

“Thank you, man,” the student said to Jose and turned around. By his lack of reaction he didn’t seem to recognize him, for which Jose was grateful.

“Just be on time from now or he’ll kick your ass out next time, babe.” 

*******

From his own time at university, Brock had taken one important lesson when it came to teaching large groups: Students would do anything to take the piss out of him and slack in class, therefore it was necessary to run a tight ship. Later on, when the rules are clear and he has gained the necessary respect, he can loosen up a bit and stop being such a hard-ass. Only four weeks into the semester, they hadn’t got to that part yet. 

It was his strictness that kept the room quiet as he talked, and made his students be on time and take this class seriously, so all his hard work wouldn’t be for naught and he wouldn’t become a joke. Especially as a gay man, he felt that he needed to do more, be even stricter in order for his students not to walk all over him or mock him behind his back. 

Brock slowly walked up the steps of the lecture hall and collected the homework as his students copied the couple of sentences he had put on the screen. 

He quickly glanced at Jose, who wasn’t copying anything and was simply watching him as he sipped his coffee. Jose was a picture of innocence, but when their eyes briefly met, Jose licked his lips and his eyes became smoldering. Brock really shouldn’t think too much about it while in class, but he knew that look and knowing his boyfriend- he suspected that Jose was kind of turned on by the authority he had in the classroom.

When he reached the lectern again, Brock made sure he had everyone’s attention. “Before we continue, can anyone tell me the definition of ‘constituents’?” he asked and as expected a couple of hands shot up in the first row and in the middle of the room. “Miss Lawson?”

“Constituents are defined as a group of words that functions together as a unit,” the girl quoted perfectly.

“Thank you, that is correct. Now if you remember last time we talked about the differences between TP, VP and NP and how even each word can be seen as a constituent, however not each group of words is a constituent. The question therefore is how we can identify constituents. Overall there are five tests that can be done in order to find constituents. However we will only talk about four of them for now and I will explain later why.” Brock switched to the next slides and explained about the replacement-, the sentence fragment-, the movement- and the ‘do so’ test by performing each test once with some exemplary sentence. He even explained the importance of using different colors for TP, NP and VP and also the different tests, otherwise chaos would ensue. “Any questions?” he asked and was sure there were, because the further he looked into the classroom, the more question marks were written all over the students’ faces.

Jose surprised him as his hand shot up with enthusiasm. 

“Mr. Cancel?” Brock asked him, both eyebrows raised, praying to the lord almighty that his boyfriend wouldn’t start some shit in this class.

“Soo...This panini is pressed, cause child these colors and brackets and stuff are making me dizzy! This looks like maths and I thought this class was all about English.” Jose couldn’t help but be himself even when he talked about the subject. Brock’s face remained stern even as some students in class giggled. 

“So your question is concerning the assigned colors?” Brock translated and tried not to let a smile slip.

“Maybe. This looks like the DaVinci code or something. Can’t you just say that if you wanna mark the whole sentence make it red, if you mark the stuff you doing –”

“The Verb, or the VP,” Brock translated.

“Yeah that, then you make it blue and the rest of the blah-baboonery make it any other color in the rainbow. Wouldn’t that do?”

“Like I said, you can choose whatever color you like, just make sure you use your colors.” Brock said and saw a couple of students nod in class. It looked like Jose wasn’t the only one confused by his elaborate color marking system, which he had established over the years in his studies, but which was apparently too much for these kids.

“Other questions?” Brock looked around the room, hoping the first question had broken the ice. Again Jose’s hand shot up. 

“B- Mr. Hayhoe, sir!” Jose called out, nearly slipping on his name. Brock just hoped it would have been his first name and not the usual endearment of ‘Baby’, ‘Babe’ or ‘Boo’, which Jose usually called him in private. Brock was pretty sure that he’d never, ever live down Miss Vanjie calling him Baby in class, even if just the memory of how Jose’s lips curled around the familiar word, made Brock’s throat go just that much more dry.

“Professor Hayhoe, Mr. Cancel,” Brock deadpanned, because he just couldn’t stop himself and bit bit his cheek in order to keep himself from smiling at his boyfriend

“Him too,” Jose shot back and this time Brock had to look down to the floor quickly to hide his chuckles. “I think I got this now, “ Jose continued undeterred. “It’s really like Legos, right? You know, like you gotta have the instructions but when you build them right you can start with a little tiny red block and get something awesome like a whole-ass- uh, whole, big rocket, which is the TP here. But it’s gotta start with the really small blocks and stack ‘em up. Like a whole book, that be like, the sickest rocket or the Millennium Falcon in Star Wars , but you gotta start with the tiny red piece, the NP, that’s the one that really hurts if you step in it.”Jose was eagerly nodding at Brock.

Brock thought about his boyfriend’s metaphor for a moment, then nodded in his direction, oddly proud of the fitting description and the fact that his man was able to participate in his linguistics class. “That’s one way that you can think of it, Mr.Cancel. But… you can’t use the red lego for everything. Sometimes you need to start with the bigger grey bricks for the VP.” 

A few of the students had started to laugh, making Jose’s cheeks burn with sudden embarrassment. 

“Think about it, J- Mr. Cancel. Is the whole rocket made of red legos?” Brock asked quickly, because there really was no reason why they should laugh about Jose’s contribution to the class. He remembered being on the other side of that, too- when he had been an over-eager freshman who had eventually gone quiet from all the giggles he would get for daring to speak in class, when everyone else only wanted to look like they were too cool to care about any of it, so he knew, even though Jose loved attention and craved the stage- it still took plenty of courage for him to speak up. Not only that, but the question was fair, even if it was worded in a way that one only got if one knew Jose.

Jose shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, you use green ones and blue ones and stuff, too but you, uh, there’s like, if there’s one lego that has six pieces, and it’s red, you saying I could use a blue one that has six pieces too and l could still get my rocket?” 

“Of course you can.” Brock told him, and Jose fell back in his seat, a proud smile on his face. 

Brock thought that he had certainly earned that one.

“More questions before we move on?” There was silence as most students shook their heads.

As Brock walked the last couple of steps back to the lectern he heard his least favorite student mutter to himself as he scribbled something in his notebook. “Grey legos...Millennium Falcon, blue legos,” Brock heard. “Now this shit suddenly all makes sense.” Brock couldn’t help but snort and quickly grabbed the remote to change to the next slide. Who knew his boyfriend’s weird ramblings could actually help make his students understand linguistics? 

  
  


*******

In the last hour of the class, Jose finally felt like he was hitting his stride, grouped with a few of the girls he had heard earlier, the late student who didn’t know who he was and the guy who had called him Miss Vanjie, to finish up a worksheet. 

He’d been nervous at first, when Brock hadn’t skipped over him when he was making the groups, but once he’d gotten to know his partners, he’d felt less out of place, and more like they were just having a casual kiki. He complimented the girls’ makeup, and even gave the fan in their group a little bit of insider tea on his favorite queens, their worksheets laying forgotten at the edge of their desks. 

Okay, so maybe kids weren’t all bad. These kids, even though they were clearly fans, had calmed down a little, and even asked him if he was in the class because he had started going to college himself, completely without judgement in their voices. 

“Nah, I- I don’t think school’s really for me, but you guys, this is your Werq the World moment, you know, so if you keep working hard and being yourselves, it’s gonna work out for you.” 

“So if you’re not thinking of becoming an English student, why the fuck would you take Hayhoe’s class? He’s the worst. Like, dude, your weird ass anxieties about how we’re all gonna sink your curve grades if you don’t explain sentences like physics and act like a total hardass aren’t real. The dude needs to get himself a- he needs to get himself laid, you know?” One of the girls sighed, making Jose nearly spit out the last of his coffee. He had suspected before that they hadn’t put two and two together and realized he was their professor’s boyfriend, but he was still surprised that they were talking like this in front of him. For all they knew he could be a cousin or a friend, since he hadn’t told them what he was doing here.

“Child, I don’t know about that,” he chuckled to himself. “You know, I think y’all just need to put a little respect on his name sometimes. Br- Professor Hayhoe, like, that’s his job, you know? It’d be like, some of the fans online who always trying to read me if I’m not perfect. Sayin’ I don’t care or I’m a fatass or dumb or the padding ain’t right all the time or some shit ‘cause my eyeshadow wasn’t right or I had dinner that day or the costume is broke or yadda yadda. It ain’t the tea.” Jose couldn’t help but reprimand them. 

If they knew that Brock sat at home on the weekends, obsessing over what they thought of him and how he was going to get them to learn even though he believed he wasn’t good enough to be teaching them in the first place, and how much careful thought and study went into his lesson plans, they’d never joke about it so casually. 

It reminded him of being much in the same situation, so fearful of being a disappointment after being eliminated from the show, and then afterwards, being unable to live up to being crazy Vanjie all the time, that he couldn’t always see the forest for the trees. 

“I still think he needs to chill a bit. It’s nothing personal, man, but I only need to pass this class. This ain’t my major, so why would I put any more work into than I have to. I’m barely awake this early, especially not on a Monday morning,” the late kid told Jose. “I work as a bartender all weekend to pay for school, so it’s hard getting up at six just to get here. I live nearly an hour away by car. Stuff happens, you know.” Jose immediately felt for the poor kid. “Even if Hayhoe thinks it’s all an excuse,” he huffed out, rolling his eyes as the other students all nodded in agreement. 

“He know that? You know, about the job and the long commute and everything?” Jose couldn’t help but cut in before everyone started to commiserate. He had the feeling that while everyone liked to gossip now and then, and he could certainly relate to getting a little catty backstage when one of his sisters really got on his nerves- there was something deeper between Brock and his students, that wasn’t as innocent as kids liking to talk shit about their strict teacher. Michelle Visage had told him, when they were on tour together, that Jose had a way of making everyone feel like they’d grown up together, and the kids clearly felt comfortable enough with him, that maybe he could get to the bottom of it.

“No way! I’m too scared to talk to him during class, no way I’ll talk to him after.” The poor kid actually shuddered at the thought, something Jose couldn’t quite reconcile with the Brock he knew; who was so sensitive that last summer, after he had bought their cats leashes, he had spent hours coaxing the animals slowly into their courtyard, not wanting them to ever feel even a little bit uncomfortable in the unfamiliar, rocky grass. 

“He’s just… intimidating.” The kid, Jordan - Jose knew by now, continued. “I’ve actually never seen him smile, ever.”

“Do you think he can laugh?” One of the girls asked.

“Maybe when we fuck up he laughs after class? Like the Grinch, you know, at home, alone?” The other one wondered and Jose didn’t like what he was hearing. He really needed to talk to Brock after this and tell him to ease up a bit.

It was one thing to expect excellence, something which Jose was happy to always want out of himself and Brock, but he’d learned from his choreographers that flowers didn’t grow under pressure, and if you really wanted to teach someone something that would stick, you didn’t do it by scaring people into thinking that failure was their only option. Brock could be kind of set in his ways, sure- only taking his coffee the exact same way for the entire time Jose had known him, but one of the things he loved the most about his man, was how caring he could be, and there was no way that letting his students see that side of him, wouldn’t make them all happier. 

“Mr. Cancel, Mr. Henderson, Mr. McGregor, Miss Trevino and Miss Stuart. Why don’t you demonstrate to the rest of the class the concepts which we just went over today? I see your group has been the chattiest so far, which must mean that this is easy for you, isn’t it?”, Brock called as he gestured towards the smartboard at the front of the room. 

“Uh- “ The fan boy in their group looked over to Jose, and back down at the unfinished worksheets. 

“Fuck,” Jordan cursed just as desperate and the girls had panic written all over their faces.

“Let me handle it, okay?” Jose whispered to his group as they all clambered down the stairs. “Miss Vanjie always got a stunt up her sleeve. Don’t worry about it.” He stepped up to Brock, enjoying the feeling of his cool blue eyes on his every move, and happily took the smartboard pen from him. 

“So over here,” Jose started, tapping the pen against the board. “I got my big lego spaceship, that’s my Millenium Falcon, which is the whole thing ‘You still have much to learn’. True, too, ‘cause we all always got stuffs to learn, as mama Ru always says. Now, it looks at first like there’s a lot of red legos in there. But, if you try the movement thingy and and twist and turn like Miss Kennedy, then you see that Yoda has entered the building ‘Much to learn you still have’. So there’s just two large blue Legos, the NP and the VP,” Jose explained and was more than sure he was on the right path when he saw Brock’s eyes widen with every word he said. “Am I right, professor?” he smiled widely at him.

“Yes,” Brock cleared his voice, apparently stunned by his brilliance, “Yes, you are right. Great job!”

“Want us to build a rocket now with the legos or can we go back to our seats?” Jose smirked when Brock just kept staring at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. What Brock didn’t know was that Jose always listened to Brock, whenever he would come home from work and talk about nothing but his students and his classes and his research, and liked to think that he had picked up some of it; too. Sometimes, when Brock wasn’t home, he would even flip through his old textbooks, running his fingers along the explanations in the margins of his notes, like it was another way to get to know the man he had come to love so much, a little bit more intimately. 

Jose had never been much of a reader – or a very good student – preferring to spend his school days chatting with his friends. It wasn’t so much of a hang up, but after the few times he’d messed up his words on TV, and struggled to read something as simple as the instructions on his Uber app while they waited for a ride outside a club he was working at; he’d actually been scared that Brock would react like some of the haters online, calling him stupid or being embarassed that he was dating someone who clearly couldn’t keep up. 

But when he’d brought it up to Brock, instead, he had laughed and told Jose there were a thousand different ways to be smart, and in fact, he had a leg up on everyone else because he could always figure out anything he put his mind to, even without years of study and volumes of textbooks. 

Whenever Brock said a technical term a couple of times, Jose would look it up afterwards and when he didn’t get it, he had found out that youtube had great videos for all kinds of classes and explanations, not only make-up. Who knew that his attempts to understand his man better, would result with him leaving said man speechless in his own class.

Brock chuckled. “No, you can go back to your seats. Thank you.”

With a satisfied nod Jose started to climb the stairs back to his seat and was halfway up when he realized the rest of his group was still rooted to the spot. “Hey, kitty girls, you coming?” he asked them and had them hurrying after him like ducklings and back to their seats.

“He smiled!” blondie whispered when Jose had sat back down. 

“I know. Darth Vader can’t be far because the world is about to end,” Jordan turned around with eyes as wide as saucers.

“Shush now. Or want us to get into trouble for talking again?” Jose told them and winked at Brock when he saw him looking his way. This time Brock just smiled, but didn’t say anything.

*******

While the last couple of groups presented their results Brock’s eyes strayed to Jose time and time again. Each time their eyes would meet and he saw the proud expression on his boyfriend’s face, Brock couldn’t help but give him a little smile. How in the hell had Jose managed to get the constituents analysis right? Brock was absolutely sure that Jose’s group hadn’t doen any work during the time they had been given. While the room was huge, he was still able to pick up on talks here and there if he paid attention to it. And Brock had definitely listened in on Jose’s group. He hadn’t called them first so much because they had simply chatted insead of getting the work done he had assigned them, but because he had heard the comments about him needing to chill.

The girls’ comments were even ruder and his only intention by calling them to the front had been to roast these two. Was it professional? Maybe not. Would it feel good? Definitely. 

Never in a million years had he thought that his man would take over and save these kids from his wrath by solving the task. Maybe Jose’s suggestion of playing teacher and student in another kind of context wasn’t too bad afterall?

“Now that we have identified all constituents it is important that you know how to arrange them in a tree. I know most of you are aware of programs like Ant Conc who can do that for you, however you need to understand how it works in order to spot mistakes or even understand the system behind it. Let’s stick with the sentence given by your textbook as an example: ‘My cat eats fish at very fancy restaurants’. How do we start the tree?” Brock asked and decided to let someone from the back row answer first, surprised that there were even any hands in the air.

“With S?” the student asked.

“S being?” Brock wanted to know just to be clear.

“Subject?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Any other ideas?”

“Sentence?” another student tried his luck. 

“Yes, you can start with the ‘S’ for sentence at the top. However, the important step is what follows next. Which would be?” 

“The restaurant?” Someone in the middle suggested and Brock ran a hand through his hair in frustration. What had he been talking about for the last hour if that’s what he got now? A waste of time, that’s what this class was for most of these kids. They would never pass if they couldn’t even get this beginner’s shit right.

“Chiiild,” Brock heard the unnerved voice of his boyfriend coming from the right. “Ain’t nobody here have any kitty cats at home?” Jose asked and looked around the room. Already discouraged by the replies so far, Brock was not ready to shut up Jose when he already started like this. Vanjie had entered the building and there was barely a way to stop him when Brock was up to it, but annoyed by his students Brock was no match for hurricane Vanjie that was sure coming.

“What does that have to do with anything?” one of the first row girls dared to ask, which was the completely wrong way to go about this, if you wanted Jose to shut it, especially since he seemed even more emboldened than usual from his display during their presentation. 

“Now listen,” Jose started the way he usually started when he was going to rant. “The example says ‘My cat eats fish at a very fancy restaurant’. Now, I don’t know about y’all and where you eating at, but when my man takes me on a fancy ass date every now and then to this real expensive Italian restaurant round Melrose, I ain’t seeing any cats there eating on the table next to us!” He was practically shouting, as if even the implication was a personal affront, arms crossed in front of his chest. Even with the AC on full blast, Brock knew he was heated, and only getting hotter as he pointed a finger towards the example on the board. 

“So why you thinking restaurant goes on top? That don’t make any sense!” Jose told the kid who had suggested ‘restaurant’ as an answer to Brock’s question. And he was far from done, which was obvious when he slowly stood up, looking around the room at his audience. Brock crossed his arms and leaned against the lectern, shook his head and couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Here we go’ he thought, ready to wave the white flag at any time just to stop his man.

”’Cause here’s the tea, so I got a cat at home, okay? My little man, his name is Thackery Binx, ‘cause of the movie Hocus Pocus which I hope you’ve all watched or you got some more educate-ning to do. And Thacks has two step brothers, ‘cause my man has kitties too. Three cats, two guys, so I’m kind of an expert on this shit. If Thacks or Henry are the cats in this sentence then of course they should be on top- ‘cause they the big boys. Apollo not so much, ‘cause the little fucker always attacks when he’s got the um- what you call that- high status.”

Brock closed his eyes and chuckled when he heard this. It was true, but way out there and he had no idea what point Jose was trying to make. Still, he felt weirdly entertained for the first time since this class had started. Jose’s eyes darted around the lecture hall, clearly satisfied that everyone was still listening, and some, even the ones who sat at the front and clearly had no problems understanding exactly what Brock had meant, turned to pay attention to Jose’s outburst with smiles on their faces.

“There’s only one spot on top,” Jose paused to jab his pointer finger straight up in the air, “and I’m not playing favorites, ‘cause that’s how I get my ass beat. So, we gotta make a choice, and what’s the thing we, me, you, my man and the cats all like? Riiight: Eat. So we put ‘eat’ on top. His favorite food comes next, which is fish so that what we puttin’ next.” Jose was nodding happily to himself, like he was putting together a puzzle, something which Brock was lucky enough to watch often, from whenever he would try a new recipe, to try to put together a new makeup tutorial on his face. Brock squeezed his middle to keep from laughing, knowing that the best-worst was yet to come.

“Y’all ever go on that ancestry dot com shit? This is like asking your mama, to tell you about your family tree kinda shit. ‘Cause like, your grandpa’s not just your grandpa, he was like a pirate or something, or like a baker- something fancy so you gotta put that on the side, whatever’s describing it- so we putting the fancy restaurant next, but a bit to the side, cause, I mean… could be a fancy kitchen my cat’s eating at or, if he was a street cat, it could even be some fancy back alley or fancy street in the valley. With some palm trees and coconuts like that Sonic shit!” Jose continued, before adding, just a little quieter, as though he had given it serious thought; “He’d just have to pay attention so he wouldn’t get hit….’cause I love my baby, but he dumb sometimes.”

While Brock realized that Jose was actually solving the task correctly once again, he couldn’t even put it down on the smartboard because he was trying too hard not to burst out laughing by taking deep breaths. His whole body was vibrating at this point and he knew his face must be all red. The students were already in stitches all throughout the classroom, encouraging Jose even more with their laughter.

“Wait wait wait, we gotta- we put them kitty cats on the other side, where we can see ‘em and give ‘em all the attention they wanna have, ‘cause well, Thackery stays posted up like his mama, do. You forget to brush him once, and he will beat your ass!” 

That was the moment when Brock lost the fight against the laughter and guffawed. He bent over, holding onto the lectern with one hand, while he held his stomach with the other. It was impossible that it was sheer luck, but how Jose could use their cats, his mother, ancestry and Sonic to build a constituents tree was just hilarious. The whole lecture hall was filled with laughter, even though the answer given by Jose was absolutely correct once more.

“Oh my god, papi,” Brock gasped and wiped away his tears when he straightened. A ripple of surprise echoed through some of the students, who were just now calming down enough to realize- sure they’d always gossiped about Professor Hayhoe, maybe being gay, but not only was he gay, but Miss Vanjie was his boyfriend? And even more shocking: Not only was he gay, but he was laughing! In class!

“What? I got it, right?” Jose smiled.

“Yes, you are just… you know what? Just sit down and shut up, big guy, so I can get my shit together and finish this lesson,” Brock told him and forgot about where he was or which role he was playing at the moment. Gone was the strict professor and all that was left was just… him, talking to the man he loved the way he usually did.

“Alright, boo, if ya admitting that I’m right and put my solution on this slide of yours, we got a deal-eo. Just gotta make sure I get the royalties! Cut the check!”

Brock shook his head and chuckled again as he put the correct solution on the slide for everyone to see. Still laughing he quickly explained the normal way again how one could get to the right solution.

“Ok, thank you everyone, that was it for today. See you next week,” Brock said when he noticed the time. Usually students would rush out of the room as fast as they could and only the same two or three always came to talk to him afterwards, mainly because they simply wanted to chat with him because they were suck ups, or because they wanted to ask questions that they thought were very intelligent. 

This time however, to his biggest surprise Goodbyes to him and to Jose came from every corner of the room. A couple of students went to Jose and asked for pictures while Brock packed up his things, but there was no one in front of his desk today. 

“Great lesson today, professor,” Jordan McGregor even told him as he left.

“Thank you,” Brock chuckled about the unexpected compliment. Finally, when everyone was gone, Brock grabbed his bag and made his way up the steps to where his boyfriend was standing, waiting for him.

“You are never, never, allowed in here again.” He breathed into Jose’s chest, letting himself collapse over one of the benches, squeezing his boyfriend in his arms. “I’m going to have campus security ban you, and give them a picture of Vanessa, too, in case your crazy ass gets any ideas.” He kissed the top of Jose’s head, relishing his boyfriend squirming happily to make room for the two of them in the seat, hoisting himself into Brock’s lap. 

“You were on fire up there, babe!”Jose told Brock, letting his head rest against the larger man’s chest. “You a good teacher and in the end the kids loved you.” 

“They love you.” Brock reminded him. “They tolerate me because Mom pays their tuition, but you... how the fuck did you even know about all of that?” 

“All of what?” 

“The... the whole immediate constituent analysis! You just put it all into your own words and Jose, I would never, never call you dumb, you know that- but this is a graduate-level course. Some of the people in this class are finishing their first Masters’ degrees.” Brock was so proud of him that he even kissed Jose for a moment.

“C’mon, I just, I can listen, you know. I was just doing my active listening, like we was practicing at home,” he said, trying to downplay his achievement. It wasn’t all a lie, after all, Brock knew, because he had bought Jose an audiobook for Christmas full of things that he had promised Jose would make life a whole lot easier, with chapters like how to pick the most important words out of a sentence quickly, and how to use all the words he knew already, to make it so he didn’t mess up saying or reading a new one. 

They would listen to it in the mornings, and practice the techniques with the toys Brock had ordered online, testing just how much Jose could follow instructions as he brought his boyfriend to orgasm with the sounds of a light, dulcet-toned man telling him to carefully parse out the intention behind the phrases a person used. 

“You could have written the book on it, and still wouldn’t have picked up six years worth of material, that all builds on each other, by the way, in two hours,” Brock countered. “Sooo, what did you do?” Brock kissed him again, knowing he would get him to admit things faster, if he used love not pressure. The blush on Jose’s cheeks deepened because of Brock’s soft voice and quiet affirmation and how he was rubbing slow circles into his back, knowing it drove Jose crazy in ways he couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“I mean, I been paying attention, when you writing up your plans and stuff. Just ‘cause it looks like I’m not doing shit but my makeup, don’t mean I don’t listen to you. And you- you this quiet type of guy, but when I take you out to the clubs you kiki with my sisters and act like we the exact same person. So, I thought that if I ever came to your job, I better know my shit. Ain’t nobody gonna say that Professor Hayhoe’s dating a dumbass. So I been following along and looked up stuff on Youtube...and uh, sometimes you left your laptop logged in and I looked at some notes, too,” he admitted. 

“Awww,” Brock cooed teasingly into his ear, his chin resting on Jose’s shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve thought of this for a while, haven’t you. Being in my class, maybe...coming back to my office. You have something special in mind for my star student?”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Jose couldn’t help but laugh but nuzzled his nose against Brock’s neck. 

“But you’re not really a student and I didn’t say we’d do it in my office here,” Brock volleyed right back. “Seriously, papi, I am so fucking proud,” he whispered, leaning in closer. He clapped a hand to the small of Jose’s back, letting his fingers drum on the smaller man’s ass and kissed his neck at the same time. 

“And by the way: I don’t just love you for that brilliant brain of yours, you know,” Brock teased him some more, not sure if it was a reward at this point or punishment for both of them.

“Shit, Brock… let’s get out of here.” Jose’s voice was sultry, his arousal audible. Brock slowly pushed him up, took his hand and led him through the university and back to his office to grab his car keys, without a care who saw them holding hands. He had two hours off until his next lesson, which was just enough time to go back home, have his way with his boyfriend and then come back. 

*******

“Good dick’ll get ya good grades. That shit’s in the bible,” Jose huffed out, breathless as he was splayed back on their bed, Brock’s huge hands tight around his thighs as he ground his mouth over Jose’s cock once more. Since they had gotten home, Brock had put him through the paces, and Jose could already feel that he would sleep soundly through the rest of the afternoon, once Brock was done with him. 

Brock was rarely ever so aggressive; but he seemed to have absolutely exploded since they had pulled the car out of the school’s parkade, breaking the speed limit to zoom right into their garage, where he had shifted so quickly from the sweet, proud boyfriend, peppering Jose with compliments and soft kisses at the red lights, telling him how much he had made his morning that much brighter to the demanding, domineering professor of Jose’s fantasies. Jose’d barely been able to keep up. 

They had started right here in the garage, where Brock hadn’t even wasted a moment, absolutely demanding that Jose apologized for the way he, a terribly naughty, disrespectful, student, had acted in class that day. They both knew there really wasn’t anything to apologize for, the crinkle in Brock’s eyes as he tried to stifle his grin telling Jose that it was more than okay. Brock was barely holding on to his character to begin with, clearly enjoying at least indulging in one of Jose’s most talked-about fantasies, more than it was about actually punishing him. 

“I was being... I was getting the kiddos excited about the English language, professor,” Jose playfully tried to reason, as Brock forced their lips together with bruising force, making him squeal as his back was pinned to the car’s side. He knew that he shouldn’t have been getting up in the middle of Brock’s lecture, getting all heated up, telling everyone all about his and Brock’s babies, but he hadn’t been able to resist. And if this was the reaction he got out of it, then he’d do it again and even add a few more facts.

“You,” Brock hissed, his teeth running down Jose’s chin, leaving a sharp trail of suckled bites along his jawline and down the soft skin of his neck. “Broke. Every. One. Of. My Rules.” 

He ground his hips against Jose’s thigh, Brock’s much larger body shadowed over him. Brock had always made him feel tiny, dainty even, but he very rarely ever dominated Jose like this, so shamelessly himself. The bits of fantasy and roleplay faded until it was only Brock, driven to a sexual peak by whatever Jose had said about constituents, and Jose couldn’t help but feel a bit of sinful delight, that Brock was so unquestionably his. He would never, ever have eyes for another man, after all, who else could make English classes the sexiest part of his day? 

“Rule Number one- no cell phones. No photos. None of me, but none of you either,” Brock seethed, nibbling on Jose’s ear. “I saw you take those pictures with the kids. When I see them on Instagram and have to fail all of those kids, what are you going to say?” 

Brock’s hand plunged into Jose’s pants, teasing a couple of fingers down past the straps of his jockstrap, stroking at his tenting cock. The friction between Brock’s fingers and the fabric made Jose’s knees buckle, as he tried to keep himself in check. 

“I’m s- sorry,” he sputtered, trying to get his hand to grip tightly enough around Brock’s bicep, so that he could keep himself upright while his boyfriend needled at his cock; soft, thick fingers carefully toying with his balls, withdrawing just enough sensation to let Jose think he could relax, as blood flooded into his center. The teasing left him throbbing as his jeans started to grow painfully tight, Brock’s hand pressing down on his cock enough that it hurt. 

“Number two. No talking. No distractions. No cursing. No getting up. I thought that made sense. But you just couldn’t keep your mouth closed.” He had released Jose’s cock for just the moment, pulling his belt open so that his pants could fall down around his knees, wetness pooling at the very tip of the flimsy fabric of his purple jockstrap in the absence of Brock’s teasing. Instead, he kissed him again, harder, Jose’s head knocking against the car’s window. 

“Rule three: You sit still. You won’t be a distraction. I seem to very distinctly remember that you stood up. And what did you say?” 

“Ah...” 

Brock used his body to pin Jose against the car door, cupping his hands underneath his boyfriend’s bare, squirming ass. He pushed the two of them closer together, putting a leg in between Jose’s as he heaved him up, coaxing him to wrap his legs around Brock’s waist. Jose’s arms locked tightly around Brock’s shoulders as he carried him inside, a sweaty, sticky mess that Brock would surely regret the next morning. It had seemed like a good idea in principle, but Jose was heavier than Brock had expected, and still enough of a brat that he let himself hang like dead weight, even though Brock could feel his muscles were shaking and stuttering with the effort. 

“I don’t think you’ll even want to think of standing up, when I’m done,” Brock whispered into Jose’s ear as he shuttled them through the hallway, and shoved open their bedroom door. The bed had been freshly made that morning, the sheets still smelling like laundry detergent as he threw Jose against the soft pillows at their headboard, stripping off his pants as Jose raced to take off his shirt and jacket. How they had stayed on was a miracle, but not one that Brock wanted to waste his time thinking of, not while Jose’s cock kept climbing between his legs. Brock hooked his fingers into the straps of his underwear, guiding it down his legs, as Jose squirmed and clenched his fists in a ball around the bedsheets. 

“You need to learn patience. You need to listen,” Brock told Jose, letting his hand slap against Jose’s exposed thigh, the sudden sensation making his boyfriend’s eyes nearly bug out his head as Brock traced a finger down his chest, to his belly button, just above his throbbing cock and balls, straddling Jose’s body as Brock let his head sink to meet the head of his cock in his mouth. 

“Rule number four,” Brock grinned up wickedly at Jose as he licked at his twitching cock. “You won’t flirt with me. I saw how you looked at me. Is this what you wanted to happen?” He came down yet again, and took Jose’s shaft down his throat, grinding his mouth in cadence with his boyfriend’s hips, nibbling a little with his teeth behind his lips, until Jose’s spare breaths turned to a frantic stuttering, and something warm exploded into Brock’s mouth. 

“M-maybe I wasn’t thinkin’ that far ahead,” Jose heaved as Brock wiped his mouth against the back of his hand. Jose had fallen back against the bedsheets, staring dizzily up at the ceiling. 

“But I do gotta tell you… this is about to be the easiest A of my goddamn life.” 

With that, it seemed that Brock couldn’t keep the fantasy going any longer, collapsing with laughter beside him as Jose caught his breath. 

“Extra credit, big guy. I’ll let you take that extra credit.”

*******

Brock tilted his head from side to side and rubbed his aching neck. This time, the end of the semester, the exams and grading of said exams was his least favorite part of being a professor. Even the supervision of master’s or bachelor’s thesis was better, because you met with students before and had some kind of influence if they listened. But with exams all you could do is count points, mark mistakes in red and scribble the result underneath. In the beginning when he had taught his first class during his master’s, he had always tried to leave an encouraging message under the exams. However the sheer amount of them made it impossible to do this any longer. 

He picked up the next exam, quickly marked it and put it on the pile with the already graded ones. Then the next and the next… he’d been at it for three hours already and the pile didn’t seem to get any smaller.

The next exam gave him pause. The person had reached the full score, making it an A+, but upon closer inspection there was something off. It was filled out with a pen, like all the others, but if you squinted you could see faint pencil scribbles on the paper. For a second Brock suspected cheating, but then remembered that it wasn’t possible these sheets of paper were handed out during the exam and handed it once the student was done. This was no paper anyone could bring from home or smuggle in. Brock took the sheet and held it up against the afternoon light coming in from the window. 

When he was able to decipher the pencil scribbles Brock laughed out loud. This was unbelievable.

“Jose? Papi?” Brock called out and got up. His man had still been asleep when he had started grading but Brock was sure he had heard him getting coffee a while ago.

“Here,” came the less than helpful reply, but Brock decided to just follow the voice. He found his boyfriend lying on the couch in the living room, cellphone in hand, tv turned on and a cup of coffee on the table – Jose’s usual morning, or well afternoon, routine. “What up, boo?” he asked when he saw Brock and put his phone down.

“Look at this,” Brock was still chuckling and handed Jose the exam.

Jose looked puzzled at first but then started to smile. “Aw, my boy Jordan got A+. And you used to say he was a dumb ho.”

“I’ve never called any of my students a ‘dumb ho’,” Brock smiled and pushed Jose’s legs off the sofa so he could join him. Once he sat beside him, he pulled the smaller man in his arms and took the exam from him. “And that’s also not what I mean. Look, there’s some pencil writing on there. Can you see?” Brock pointed it out.

“Millenium Falcon… ancestry baker… rocket… no cats at the restaurant… red legos hurt,” Jose read slowly what was scribbled all over the sheet at the different questions and exercises. Jose started giggling: “Looks like someone paid attention to professor Vanjie’s lesson.”

“And aced the exam,” Brock pointed out proudly and smooched Jose. “You’re incredible,” he told him when he pulled back and smacked his lips, tasting the sweet coffee Jose drank for his breakfast.

“Can professor Vanjie add a little something-something to the exam?” Jose smirked up at him.

“No.” Brock didn’t even need to think about it.

“I didn’t even say what!”

“Still no.”

“But… just.. can I draw a little heart with ‘great job’ like my teacher Ms Jones used to do? Or you know, put a little star sticker on it? Or I’ll get my lipstick out and smooch the paper?”

“No, no and no. This is an official document that will be filed in the office.” Brock shook his head and quickly put the sheet of paper to the other side, so Jose couldn’t reach it anymore. Safe was safe.

“I’ll even use the boring ass pink lipstick!” Jose was still not done. 

“Jose,” Brock groaned loudly.

“Just a little teeny tiny star sticker?” Jose was now trying his luck with pouting.

“No.” Whatever stunt Jose would pull, there was no way Brock would let him do anything to this sheet of paper. This wasn’t kindergarten!

“Please, Professor Brock. I promise Imma behave then…” Jose’s sultry tone of voice shit straight to Brock’s dick, making him hard in seconds. They hadn’t played like this since that day months ago when Jose had visited his class, but… god… 

“I said no Mr. Cancel,” Brock’s voice became stern, his look hard, but his eyes were smoldering. Jose tried to hide his smile by biting his lip, which drove Brock even crazier. In seconds he had flipped Jose on his back and was hovering over him.

“Can you explain why, professor. I don’t think I get it yet,” Jose was so close Brock felt his breath on his face as he spoke. Brock wasn’t interested in explanations though and shut him up with a kiss.

Later, when Brock woke up from his post-coital nap on the sofa he found the exam lying on the couch table and next to the grade was a Miss Vanjie sticker and next to it Jose had written “Well done, Miss Thing!”

Brock groaned. There went his reputation as a serious professor. Semester one and he was already done. And worst of all, he couldn’t even be mad at Jose, because he and his Lego linguistics had saved this kid from failing his class. 

“Fucking lego Millenium Falcon,” he muttered, grabbed the exam and went back to his office to grade the rest, hoping he wouldn’t find any more stickers on them.

**The end**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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